Member-only story
Becoming Witchy, Part I
or How I Learned to Finally Embrace the Weird
As a child, I can remember watching the full moon ride alongside from the car window in the back seat. I remember that it was beautiful, luminous with golden light, and that I couldn’t stop staring at it. I was fascinated that it seemed to be following us, even as we sped down the freeway.
I remember feeling something that I couldn’t explain, a pull toward that golden moon, as if I should never stop watching it. Indeed, I wanted to keep staring even after we arrived at our destination. It’s funny, I don’t remember anything else about that car ride, or even exactly how old I was, but I can see that perfect moon in my head to this day. I equate it to falling in love, in a way. Little did I know how much I would incorporate the moon into my daily life later on.
Was this the beginning of my recognition of and interest in the metaphysical? I’m not sure. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when I knew that I was curious about and saw things differently than other kids, and especially adults.
Maybe it was when I opened Volume B of our encyclopedia set and found the page with full color illustrations of the birthstones. I remember that pull, too. I estimate that I was around 5 years old. I was happily being a witch, assigning magickal properties to the stones. My favorites were the emerald…
